


Friends

by imagineteamfreewill



Series: The Switch [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagineteamfreewill/pseuds/imagineteamfreewill
Summary: Sam and Dean talk about the Supernatural books and Y/N tries to get Sam to open up to her.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You, reader x sam - Relationship
Series: The Switch [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1339267
Kudos: 27





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my tumblr of the same name on November 24th, 2018.

Sam found his older brother holed up in his bedroom a few days later. Dean hadn’t come find him as soon as he got back, like he’d said he would, and though Sam had been suspicious, it had been nice to spend time with Y/N without feeling pressured to interact with both his older brother and his new friend. Plus, he hadn’t had to worry about Dean teasing him about his interactions with her. After all, it had been a while since Sam had spent any time at length with a woman, and Dean had already made a few jokes about the two of them getting together, despite the fact that Y/N had only been in the bunker for a few weeks.

“What’s up?” Dean asked, pushing off his headphones and sitting up as Sam stepped in through the open bedroom doorway. He uncrossed his arms and tossed the headphones on the mattress. “You find something?”

Shaking his head, Sam replied, “Just wanted to check in and see if you were alright. You didn’t update me after that supply run…”

“The supply run was fine,” Dean said. He stood, crossing over to his dresser to go through his bullets, if only to busy himself so that Sam would go away.

“Dean, you almost died.”

Dean ignored the look on his younger brother’s face and carried the box of bullets back over to his bed, setting it down and sitting beside it as he began to sort its contents. Demon, witch-killing, silver, and regular… He was running low on all of them, and he made a mental note to make more when he had the time.

“Dean,” Sam huffed. “You can’t just push me away again like this. We’ve gotta be on the same page about these things now. It’s not like it was before the Switch.”

“I was fine,” Dean gruffly replied, glancing up from the bed. “Cas was there and we both got home okay. Plus, I got even more stuff than we thought I’d be able to, didn’t I? We won’t have to go on another food run for a month or two as long as we’re careful.”

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then gestured vaguely. “I guess, yeah. I just… if something happened to you—”

“You promised you wouldn’t do anything if something happened to me.” Dean didn’t look up, his voice stony as he began to put the bullets back into the box one at a time. “You  _ can’t _ do anything if something happens to me.”

“I know,” Sam murmured, though he didn’t look away. 

“Good. Conversation’s over. Anything else you wanted to talk about, or can I go back to watching my movie?”

After a second of hesitation, Sam asked, “Did you know those books about us are still online?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, closing up the box and looking up at Sam. “How’d you find that out?”

“Uh, Y/N was reading them. I guess Cas found them for her so she could learn about me,” Sam chuckled, a half smile, half grimace on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck and then shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What’d she say?” Dean asked.

“You don’t sound very surprised about this,” Sam replied. When a few moments went by without a response from Dean, he crossed his arms over his chest and raised a suspecting eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe in the process. “You knew she was going to read them, didn’t you?”

Shrugging, Dean got up and set the box back inside the drawer where he’d got them, then pulled out a few of his knives that he’d been meaning to clean. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“She said that she hadn’t expected them to be so personal,” Sam sighed. 

“And?”

Sam huffed in annoyance. “And what, Dean?”

“She say anything else?”

“No.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully and grabbed a rag to dry the knives with, carrying them over to the sink and turning the handle, sticking his finger under the water pouring from the faucet as he waited for it to grow warm.

“Do you think she should have?” Sam asked after a second. Dean pursed his lips by way of response, looking down at the porcelain bowl. “You know, I figured you would’ve been more weirded out by this. You  _ hate _ those books.”

“Oh believe me,” Dean scoffed. “I’m weirded out, but I’m not the one who’s—” He stopped himself before he could reveal anything, and he could feel Sam’s eyes boring into the side of his head.

“You’re not the one who’s what?” Sam questioned, stepping farther into the bedroom.

“I’m not the one who’s spending all my time pining over her,” Dean finished, though Sam had a feeling he’d been meaning to say something else the first time he’d started the sentence.

Dean met his brother’s eyes as he pulled his hand from under the water, wiping the wetness onto his jeans before looking back down at his work. The first knife was already rinsed clean of blood and gore, and he quickly wiped it dry with the rag and set it aside.

“I’m not pining over her,” Sam scoffed. Dean hummed, not justifying the denial with any words, and a second later Sam added, “Besides, it’s not like I’ll be able to spend any time with her. She knows everything about me now. She knows about all the things I’ve done, everything I’ve said, all my mistakes…”

That got Dean’s attention. Sighing, he turned off the water and dumped the blades into the sink, turning to look at Sam, who was now staring at the floor. 

“You’re an idiot.”

Sam’s head jerked up and he met his brother’s gaze, shocked. “What?”

“I said, you’re an idiot. If you think that someone as good as Y/N wouldn’t want to spend time of you because of what you’ve done in the past—”

“I’ve killed people, Dean! I was addicted to demon blood!”

Sam’s voice rose in pitch and volume, and Dean saw in an instant where this conversation was headed. Hoping to avoid it, he replied, “We’ve all done bad things, Sammy, come on. You can’t really expect—”

“Forget it. I’m gonna go finish that research.” Sam ignored it Dean went to speak again, turning his back on his brother and leaving the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a thud that was probably much louder and heavier than necessary.

Dean exhaled heavily, letting his shoulders slump. He needed to talk to Y/N, but he also didn’t want to deal with her questions about where he’d been the past few days. He and Cas had decided not to let her know when they went out—or whenever they got involved in something dangerous—for fear of her wanting to help them. She hadn’t been hunting for as long as they had, and though Cas had said she was extremely skilled, they didn’t want something to happen to Sam’s soulmate. That was the least he could do to help secure his little brother’s future.

* * *

“What do you think of this?” you asked, pulling Sam’s attention from his laptop. He hadn’t spoken to you since breakfast. Your meal had been nice, but towards the end he’d grown quiet, until finally he left without so much as saying goodbye to you. You hadn’t seen him since then, and when you’d discovered him in the library late in the evening, hunched over his computer, you decided that it was up to you to get him to talk to you.

“Hmm?”

“Osiris,” you read as you settled yourself on the edge of the long library table, “the ancient Egyption god of the Underworld and the Judge of the Dead, cannot be killed. He can, however, be disabled for centuries at a time. This can only be achieved with the horn of a ram, in which the warrior must stab the god with the blunt, narrow end of the horn.”

You looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes. He gave you a tight, uninterested smile and your own smile faded as he glanced back down at something on his screen.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Nothing, it’s just… We’ve faced him before,” Sam dismissively replied.

“Who, Osiris?”

He nodded. “Dean almost died, but I got the ram’s horn at the very last minute. I thought you would’ve read that. I’m sure it’s in one of those books.” Sam looked back at his screen, already shutting you out again.

Frowning, you closed the heavy book and set it down on the table where you’d been perched, then stood. “Is that what this is about?”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. He still didn’t look up and you crossed your arms over your chest, annoyed and hurt that he wouldn’t even look at you.

“The books. You’re mad that I read them.”

Sam sighed and sat back in his chair, his eyes still trained on the glowing white screen in front of him as he smoothed both hands over his hair. “Not mad, just…”

“Just what? Because whatever it is, I’m not in the mood to be pushed out because you’re too afraid to talk to me about it. I thought we were becoming friends,” you said angrily.

Hazel eyes snapped to yours, filled with a thousand emotions. You tried to take inventory of what you saw—hurt, fear, anger, guilt.

“We are friends,” Sam insisted.

“Friends tell each other when they’re upset about something.”

The room was quiet and you held Sam’s gaze until finally he replied, “Fine. You wanna know what I’m upset about?” He turned in his chair so he was facing you more.

“That’s exactly what I want to know, yeah,” you retorted, moving away from the table so that you were facing him head-on as well.

“I’m upset that you invaded my privacy and then acted like nothing had even happened, Y/N. I know what you read about. I’m not stupid—I know what you’ve been thinking.”

“And what have I been thinking? Huh? Tell me, Sam. Tell me what I’m thinking. I’d love to know!”

Sam grew deadly quiet and you had the sinking feeling that though you’d been pressing all the buttons you’d  _ wanted _ to press, you shouldn’t have pressed any buttons at all. You swallowed nervously, backing up a step as Sam stood. He towered over you and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly small. You’d read about what Sam was capable of. Though you’d never seen it in action, the look in his eyes was enough to tell you that you’d regret it if you said anything more.

“That I’m a screw-up,” he spat, his lip curling up as he bared his teeth, anger and hurt lacing his words. “That I’m a failure. Am I right? You think that I’m gullible and that I’m stupid. That I’m better off  _ dead.” _

His last word fell into your lap, heavy and full of so much self-hatred that it brought tears to your eyes.

“Sam—”

“Don’t.” Sam pushed past you, leaving the bunker without so much another word in your direction. The heavy iron door you’d entered through weeks ago slammed shut and you flinched at the sound, tears spilling down your cheeks as you stood alone in the library, wondering how you were going to fix this. You hadn’t  _ really  _ meant to make Sam upset, you’d only meant to figure out why he’d so suddenly shut you out.

Dean came running down the bunker hallway, gun drawn. When he saw you standing there crying, he quickly cleared the library before putting the gun away and going to your side.

“What happened? Where’s Sam?” he asked, eyes frantic when they landed on his brother’s open laptop.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” you sniffled quickly wiping your tears away so you wouldn’t look so much like a fool. “He left because of me, I’m so sorry.”

He cursed under his breath, pulling out a phone and dialing it. You listened as he held it up to his ear and a woman answered on the other end.

“Yeah, Jody? Listen, Sam may be heading your way. Test him, do whatever you gotta do to make sure it’s him, but don’t let him leave. Got it?” There was a pause as Dean listened to the woman talk. “No, he’s… he’ll be fine,” Dean said as he glanced your way. You sniffled again and looked down at the floor. “Alright. Thanks. Yeah, just keep an eye on him if he shows up, and let me know if he does. And make sure you check him for— Yeah. Okay, thanks.”

Dean ended the call and ran a hand over his face, sighing.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to upset him like that. I just thought—”

“What were you thinking?” Dean exploded, and you flinched. “Sam’s not supposed to be leaving the bunker! He can’t protect himself!”

Something inside of you snapped and you jerked your head up, focusing your steely gaze on the oldest Winchester. “Sam is one of the most capable hunters I’ve ever met,” you told him, your voice even, the words falling into place like bricks in a wall. “He is completely capable of taking care of himself, even without you by his side. He’s proven that time and time again, and you underestimating him in times like these doesn’t even remotely help him understand how amazing he is and how worthy of love he is!”

Dean glared at you, his eyes narrowing, but you held his gaze. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he growled. 

“Neither do you.”

Turning on your heel, you marched out of the room, going to your bedroom and shutting the door behind you. Once it was closed, you leaned against it, closing your eyes as you let your anger dissipate.

“Cas?” you called after you’d finally calmed down. “Cas, I need your help. Are you there?”

He appeared a moment later, his wings flapping noisily as he popped into your room in the blink of an eye. His brow was creased with concern, and you knew in an instant that he’d already been informed about what was going on.

“Sam’s in danger, isn’t he?” you asked, your voice quiet.

Silently, Cas nodded, and you stomach dropped in return. You closed your eyes, your insides twisting at the thought of him being in danger because of you. You’d only started to grow close with him, and despite the fact that you were ignoring your apparent role as his soulmate, you’d been wishful that the two of you could have been good friend at the very least.

“It’s not your fault,” Cas said.

You shook your head at him, opening your eyes once more. “You weren’t there to see it. I provoked him, Cas, and then he said all these things to him and to Dean…”

“What things, Y/N?”

Tears burned in your eyes again as Sam’s words echoed in your ears and you blinked them away, inhaling shakily as you said, “He hates himself. He’s the most wonderful person I’ve ever met and he hates himself.”

Cas was quiet as you composed yourself again, then met his eyes. He was watching you intently, and it was just when you were starting to get uncomfortable that he said, “Sam isn’t safe on his own. There are… certain conditions that have made him unable to defend himself since the Switch. When I was possessing him, my grace kept him safe, but I’m not with him this time and the warding on his ribs prevents me from finding him.”

You frowned and twisted your ring “That’s what Dean said but… Sam’s been hunting practically as long as he’s been alive. Why wouldn’t he be able to defend himself?”

“That’s a question you’ll have to ask Sam. It’s not my story to tell.”

“We need to find him first,” you exhaled, and Cas nodded in agreement. “Is there some way I can help? I’m pretty good at tracking.”

“I can assure you, Sam is much better at hiding than you are at tracking,” Cas replied.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair and began to pace, thinking. After a few minutes of silence, you had an idea, and you whirled around to face Castiel. He met your wide eyes with surprise, shocked to see a smile on your face.

“If I’m his soulmate, doesn’t that mean we have some sort of cosmic connection? Like, our souls are similar or something like that?” you asked.

Cas thought for a moment before answering, “Yes. Your souls are a bonded pair, meaning that they share similar aspects and are linked indefinitely.”

“What if we found a way to track him using my soul? Soul-to-soul GPS?” 

The room was silent as Cas thought through your proposal, and you held your breath in anticipation, desperately hoping that his conclusion would be positive.

“It’s worth a try,” he finally said, and you exhaled in relief. “But you should know that your soul is fragile and… sensitive. My grace would allow me to touch it directly, which will make tracking Sam easier, but it will require an extensive amount of time and you will be in immense pain. I don’t wish to hurt you, Y/N.”

“If it’ll help us find Sam, I’m willing to do anything. My friendship with him and his life as a whole is more important to me than any amount of pain is.” Cas nodded once and you let out a nervous breath, rubbing the sides of your arms with your hands. “Now,” you said, dropping your hands to your sides once more. “Where do you want me?”

“On the bed,” Cas said, and you nodded in reply, obeying his instructions. “I will go tell Dean what we’re doing. Do you have a belt?” You nodded again, frowning in confusion. “Good. You will need it.”


End file.
